


I Will Make You Remember

by Gaeliceyes



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Biting, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Duskwight Elezen Warrior of Light - Freeform, Edgeplay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Ishgard Sandwich, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Porn with Feelings, Wall Sex, no beta we die on this hill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaeliceyes/pseuds/Gaeliceyes
Summary: He was speaking to Krile, something about his contract being up. “You’re not the only one with other matters to see to,” his rough voice barked. She glanced up, only to find his parents piercing blue eyes locked on her face, an intense hungry light in them. Then he was bowing and turning away. Fury take him, he was running again.The others were talking, something something how to keep the scion’s bodies alive. She heard nothing, a hollow ringing filling her ears. “I...have to go,” she said quickly. Tataru looked knowing, but nodded agreeably. She barely saw, blind as she was to anything but the desire to catch up to the man she loved. Her beast. It had been so long.
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	I Will Make You Remember

**Author's Note:**

> 5.0 Shadowbringers patch spoilers. Nothing to say. I just needed to get this out of my head.

Isoldahlia gripped her staff so hard she could feel the metal biting into her palms. Estinien was presenting a facade so blasé she thought he might yawn for effect. All she wanted to do was grab him with both hands and shake him, or kiss him.

“You look none the worse for wear,” he commented. _If you only knew_ , she thought, bleakly.

“So do you,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze, but letting her eyes drift over the lean, whipcord planes of his body. He had been within striking distance of Zenos, the most terrifying monster she had ever faced and just the thought of it made the breath freeze in her lungs. It was a feeling not unlike the frozen stasis from when the light tried to devour her body and soul.

He was speaking to Krile, something about his contract being up. “You’re not the only one with other matters to see to,” his rough voice barked. She glanced up, only to find his piercing blue eyes locked on her face, an intense hungry light in them. Then he was bowing and turning away. Fury take him, he was running again.

The others were talking, something something how to keep the scion’s bodies alive. She heard nothing, a hollow ringing filling her ears. “I...have to go,” she said quickly. Tataru looked knowing, but nodded agreeably. She barely saw, blind as she was to anything but the desire to catch up to the man she loved. Her beast. It had been so long.

Outside he was nowhere to be seen. She swore long and viciously. Where would he have gone? The cokobokeep perhaps, to rent a mount to head back to Ishgard? What tasks did he have before him that were so urgent?

She stumbled in her rush to get to the stable. Turning a corner she was suddenly grabbed with bands of steel around her middle. Before she could even cry out the air was knocked out of her as her back slammed against the stone wall, and an equally steely pillar trapped her from the front. Hot breath drifted past her neck and lips crushed her own beneath them, biting and eating at her as if a half-starved wretch.

She tore her mouth away, gasping for breath. “Estinien,” she managed to gasp before his hands took both sides of her face and brought her mouth back to his. He growled as he ate at her, and his lips and teeth drifted down her jaw and to her neck. Long calloused fingers tangled in her thick white hair, tugging none too gently to expose the long pewter column of her throat.

“You left,” he said, breathing hard and resting his forehead on the stones as he pressed his face into her neck.

“Not by choice,” she managed to gasp out.

“You left us alone. No word. No word of you for weeks,” he growled between bites along her jaw.

“I was...urgently occupied,” she pulled his mouth back to hers, shying away from the traumatic memories. _I was losing myself_ she thought. _Remind me, my love_.

——————

Estinien couldn’t stop his hands, his mouth. She was here, alive. He knew she had been in danger. He had rescued her from Zenos only to have her disappear, apparently abducted to another world. He had descended on the Rising Stones like the Fury herself, only to learn they knew almost nothing, except she was alive, well, and not returning any time soon. Chained once more by her heroic duty, her need to fix the broken, to save the unsaveable. A bittersweet recognition that did nothing to ease his agony. The two Lalafel Scions wheedled and cooed until too late he discovered himself indentured into service in exchange for information on the Warrior. Hence how he found himself traveling to the Empire with that morose bastard Baelsar in search of Black Rose.

Now she was back, and that mad creature Zenos was as well. Yet all he could think about was laying claim to her body again, an addiction he could not fight, more potent than the power of Nidhogg’s eye.

 _Mine_ , he thought as he claimed her mouth again. His hands stroked her from shoulder to hip before gripping her beneath her thighs and lifting her higher, snugging her thighs close around his hips so he could grind his hardness into her. He dragged his lips to her ear and bit it, eliciting a ragged gasp as she arched against him and tightened her legs to draw him closer.

“We need to stop,” she panted, “Unless you like an audience. “ He almost didn’t heed her, _Let them watch me lay my claim_ , but managed to stop long enough to realize she was right. They needed privacy for what he wanted to do to her.

“I have a room,” he growled, letting her drop to her feet, groaning as she rubbed against him on the way down.

Minutes later the door closed on the simple inn room and he was pulling her back into his arms, desperate to feel his skin against hers. “Halone, this dress...” he growled. Pushing her away just a bit to let his eyes rove over her. Scraps of fabric held on with leather cord left windows of glittering twilight skin exposed. He took a moment to allow his fingertips to skim over each bare section, the space between her breasts, the ribbon of her abdomen, the strip up her side and over her ribs. Each brush made her twitch and shiver. Until he found one strand, plucked, and the whole construct collapsed into scraps of cotton and leather.

A shuddering sigh as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head into her chest. A groan rolled out and he sought one dark nipple with his mouth, suckling it deep until the edge of his teeth grazed the meat of her breast. Slim fingers carded through his hair, causing delightful jolts as strands caught briefly on her skin. The next pass her fingers stopped mid-comb and closed, tugging his head away with a soft pop from her nipple. He rolled his eyes up to meet hers, nearly glowing teal in her lust.

“I thought you were going to fuck me. What’s taking so long?”

The beast within, always ravenous, howled in agreement, and another growl trickled out. He wrestled back his instinctual desire to simply throw her on the bed and take her. No, he had other plans in mind. A lesson perhaps in not leaving your lovers wondering for ages when you would return. That was _his_ prerogative.

————————

Isoldahlia smiled as her beast reacted, ready for the onslaught, but then her breath hitched as his eyes narrowed and a toothy smile curled. She had expected, wanted, instant escalation of their play. Instead she could not help the thrill of uncertainty as he straightened and loomed menacingly.

She took one step back, then another. His hands had left her waist, so no part of him touched her, but the look in his eyes made her tremble. Debauched, determined, and dangerous. She could not help retreating before him, until her back hit the wall. He crowded closer, and she arched into him as the rough wool of his shirt caught on her sensitive skin.

Two rough, battle hardened hands rose slowly to rest on the wall on either side of her head. He held her eyes as long as he could, lowering his mouth to rest open on her shoulder. She could feel the edge of his teeth resting so gently. Then they pressed harder and scraped slowly along the muscle and up her neck, an implicit threat that set her heart racing and dragged a whimper from her.

He stopped at her ear, temple pressed to temple. His dark, deep voice purred in her ear, “Gone so long, no word. You don’t get off that easy, Warrior.”

Her hands rose to fist in his tunic, and she turned her head, searching for his lips. He obliged. His own hands drifted down to her skirt, still firmly tied around her waistline. But those nimble fingers did not explore to find the tie. Instead, even as his lips devoured hers, he began to gather the light, but voluminous, fabric ilm by ilm.

She sought out the belt at his waist, feeling more secure in the direction they were going until he snarled into her mouth. “Stop.”She froze. He leaned away and his commanding gaze seized her. The cool air of the room puffed against her shins, her knees, her thighs, until he had the whole front of her skirt bunched tightly at her waist.

“You’re going to hold this, now,” his gravel voice was low. One of his hands grabbed hers, twisting it out of his shirt and guiding it to her rucked up skirt. Then the other. She could not tear her eyes away. “Say yes,” another growl, “I would hate to leave you wanting.” She nodded her head jerkily. Her breathing had sped up until every inhalation was brushing her chest against his. “Good.”

In the past they had always come together in a storm, desperate and feral, seeking and savage. She had never seen him so deliberate and controlled. It was...electrifying, breathtaking. His palms rested lightly on the sides of her thighs, skimming up to trace the waist of her smalls, making her shiver. Wiry, strength-sinewed fingers fisted in the soft cotton and began to pull. They applied steady, inexorable pressure until the fabric yielded with a slow, meaty rip, the sound of each thread breaking, one by one, loud in the silence. He let the ruined fabric fall to the floor, leaving her bare.

His hands game back to grip her thighs hard, fingers wide, and he urged them apart. She shifted, letting him push them, sliding her feet, until her legs were spread wide. He gently guided her shoulders back so they leaned against the wall, which only made her hips cant out as if making an offering of her nakedness below. Then he stepped back and looked.

“Estinien,” it came out as a whisper. He did not respond. Those eyes devoured her, traveling from splayed feet, up trembling legs, to her cunt on full display. She could feel it start to weep even as he stared, a tiny drip that trailed from the lip to the fold of her thigh. Her hands twitched, instinctively wanting to let the gathered skirt down. It was obscene. It was glorious. It was pure desire

“Don’t move,” he grated out sharply, and she froze, whining low.

“I...c..can’t,” she managed, “please.”

“Yes, you can. I know it.Do. Not.” She shivered again. The want was becoming unbearable, consuming. His perusal had moved on, trailing up past her waist to her breasts, presented fully by the position of her body, nipples tightening at the touch of his regard. Her neck. Her face. His eyes met hers, mesmerizing. His pupils were blown wide, dark midnight sparking with umbral red, and she could hear his harsh breathing.

He made her wait.

While she stood there, exposed and aflame, he began to undress with methodical, unhurried grace. Her head fell back against the wall and she watched him with slitted, hungry eyes. The belt and scabbard dropped to the floor and were kicked aside. Then his vest and sash. His shirt unlaced with slow pulls. She hummed in admiration, biting her lip, as he pulled it over his head, showing off the lean, ropy muscles of his chest and arms.

His hands flexed at the sound, a snarl of lust chasing across his face. War scarred fists clenched and slowly released. Fury, he was as on the edge as she. Her lips stretched in a smile. She wondered who might break first.

She licked her lips as he reached for the ties at his waist, and gave a tiny hip roll. Another trickling growl.She did it again, although it helped her little. The very air teased her with its stillness, not even a puff to ease her desperate craving to be touched at her most intimate juncture. He had stopped undressing now, narrowed eyes watching the shift of her hips.

“Please,” she whispered, and his gaze snapped back to her face. “Need you.” He was pulled a step closer, and her body arched toward him an ilm more. But he caught himself, and her hunger howled a denial when he stopped. She watched him visibly pull himself back from the edge, regaining control of the beast.

He continued disrobing, but his movements were shorter now, sharper. The scrape of metal and leather thrilled her as he jerked at the buckles of his greaves, kicked them off, followed quickly by his slops and smalls. He was gloriously, deliciously nude, his arousal long and hard. Had she ever seen him so aroused, tip dark and weeping? Her hands itched to touch him. Fury, how she burned to touch and be touched in return. She could not help the whine she released when he cupped his length in one big hand and squeezed.

-—-—-—-—

Estinien gripped his cock hard, nearly to the point of pain, trying to bring his raging lust under control. She looked so perfect there, lewd, wanton, splayed wide and his for the taking. He wanted to ravage her. He would. But first he would make her wait. Just a little longer. Even through a haze of lust he could see her sweet agony.

His hunger barely leashed once more, he strode to stand before her. He leaned into her again, then slammed his fists into the wall on either side of her head. She flinched, but her pupils expanded until the turquoise of her eyes was nothing but a glowing ring. Halone, she sent him to the stars and all he wanted was to burn. His body caged her, looming, so close, but he kept just far enough away that nothing touched, even as she bowed herself up in desperate search of contact.

He brought his lips close to one slender pointed ear. “Not. Yet. Temptress. Hold on tight.” Another whimper, and the beast inside lapped it up.

He pushed away from the wall and walked to the bed. “Where are you going,” she panted behind him.

“Not far. Be patient,” he gave a raspy chuckle, grabbing the quilt from atop it and also taking a moment to gain further control of the fire within. He honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back.

He made a show of folding the quilt and placing it at her feet. He rested his hands on the wall, then dragged them down in a slow slide as he crouched, focusing as hard as he could on the sound of his palms shushing against the stone, and then his nails scraping lightly behind. “Just wait,” he whispered so softly he wasn’t sure if she could hear him, or if he was even talking to her.  
  


-—-—-—-—-—-—

Isoldahlia couldn’t think past the anticipation any longer. She was panting, her brain on fire, her body a mass of overstretched nerves. He was on his knees before her, his rasp inflaming her. Overwrought as she was, when one calloused hand wrapped around her ankle she yelped, and her legs nearly buckled. Estinien’s other hand clamped swiftly at her hips, shoving until they hit the wall so she was supported from the small of her back to her shoulders. “You. Will. Stay.” Her thighs flexed as she willed herself to obey him.

But she could not stop the moan,”I can’t. Please. Please.”

“I have seen you endure. You can do it now.” His command was irresistible, so she nodded again and let her head fall back hard against the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on slowing her breathing, counting her racing heartbeats, listing the different types of aether in her head to—- _Oh, Fury his mouth was on her leg_ —-it all went to pieces. Soft lips contrasted with a strong wet tongue and unyielding teeth as he rubbed, licked, and bit his way up the inside of her leg. His hand slid ahead, lifting and supporting her leg—her knee—her thigh, a rough pull of skin against skin, until it reached the top and his thumb brushed up the crease of her thigh, so very close to where she wanted to be touched.

Instead he lifted her leg over his shoulder and buried his nose in that crease, rubbing and nipping. She shuddered, so close to being sent over the edge, but he turned and bit the inside of her leg, hard, and that peak slipped away again. A sob this time, “Please, Twelve, please, oh Gods, Estinien. “

“Not yet,” his voice was even lower and more beastial than before. With no warning he manhandled her other leg over his other shoulder. She tightened her thighs instinctively, pulling him as close as possible. His hands burrowed around her hips to help support the weight of her now trapped between his shoulders and the wall. It left his nimble thumbs room to slide closer and closer to the core of her until finally they touched, slipping between her slick folds and parting them to reveal all of her to his gaze.

“Now,” he breathed, and the sigh of his exhalation across her folds shattered her. Shepushed her hips into his face, and he wrapped his lips around her clit, devouring her orgasm with teeth and tongue as she came apart in his arms. She screamed for him.

He did not allow her to relax however, the strong muscle of his tongue laving her, stroking, as he suckled and nipped. Even as the ecstasy ebbed it was building again, slowly, inexorably, focused entirely on the feel of him consuming every ilm of her. She felt his tongue push into her passage, probing, and she grunted, keened, bucked —her body begging to have that empty place filled. He obliged, one long finger slipping inside, crooking to push against a pleasure center. Her clit was vibrating between his lips as he crooned approvingly against her.

“More,” he purred, a second finger pushing inside her, then a third, pumping once twice and she was cresting again. The skirt forgotten, her hands clawed at his head and shoulders. She lost coherency, simply sobbing his name over and over as she shuddered above him, “Estinien...Estinien...Estinien...”

-—-—-—-—

Her cries were too sweet, the scent of her release too thick, and Estinien’s control shredded. Her body was sliding down the wall, the strength to prop herself up gone.No matter. He had strength enough for both of them.

He stood swiftly, her legs falling bonelessly from his shoulders to the bend of his elbow, and notched their hips together. So slick, so hot, his cock straining as he probed her entrance. She tore at his shoulders, gyrating, her hips seeking his. He could not hold back. Full thrust and he was hilted in her heat.

“Yes, nngh, fuck, yes,” sweet filthy sounds fell from her lips and then she arched back in open mouthed silence, paralyzed by pleasure. He could feel her walls gripping him, rippling, as she shattered apart for him.

Then nothing but instinct remained. He fucked her into the wall, hard, wanton thrusts, taking, claiming. It didn’t take long before his vision went white. “Isoldahlia!”

When he came back to himself they were on the floor, slicked with sweat and more. He on his knees and she in his lap, legs clutching his waist, still joined, and twitching her hips on him with soft whimpers.It sent frissons of painful pleasure through him. He grabbed and held her still, burying his face into her neck.

Somehow he stood and staggered to the bed, falling onto it with a groan. Some remnant of mind had him reaching blindly for any piece of cloth. There was a ripping sound as he pulled her skirt down and off, tossing it to the floor. He mopped gently at the mess between her legs, before cursing it as a pointless pursuit and tossing the cloth aside. They would take care of each other in the morning. For now he gathered her into his arms and twined their legs together.

“I’m sorry,” he heard her rasp. He glanced up to see her watching him and rubbed his thumbs over the tear tracks on her cheeks. “I love you.”

“I know it,” he muttered, ears flushing, never comfortable with softer sentiments. “But don’t think this settles it. Our Lord Commander wants a word with you, too.”

He wheezed at the look of horror and anticipation on her face, then leaned in and kissed her. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame the wholesome, debauched, and enabling friends in the [Book Club ](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic) for goading my brain into creating this. Check it out if you want more amazing FFXIV fanfic food.


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